While I feel like I am living in an Ant Farm, truth be told, they’d throw my ass out. You see, ants are waaaaaayyyyyyy more evolved than I am….
So this morning I drag my ass out of bed at 6:50am-really angry for 3 reasons…
1. After 25 months of trying, I’m still not pregnant.
2. This is the only morning during the work week that I don’t have to get up at the crack ass of dawn-and yet here I am having to get out of bed at the crack ass of dawn.
3. Because this stupid practice MANDATES that you come in to take a blood pregnancy test at the end of your cycle even if you are testing negative on a home pregnancy test AND you’ve been bleeding out your V-jay for 4 days.
Now I would like to say what I am about to tell you is embellished, or completely fabricated-but sadly I am shit of human being right now and well, there are times that I can’t control rage. I want to, I think (although at times mostly I don’t). Only I can’t. I’ve read that anger + helplessness = rage. That’s me.
Nurse (N): So you don’t think this one worked huh?
Me (M): No. I’m on cycle day 4 for crying out loud, what ever was put in 2 weeks ago has long since been flushed down the toilet.
(N): chirr chirr-chirr chirr
(M): Is it typical to not take the patients word that she’s not pregnant? Have you had many cases of women lying about being NOT pregnant when they are in fact actually pregnant?
(N): chirr chirr-chirr chirr
(M): I’ll take that as a no.
(N): So should I set you up with a follow up appointment with Dr. G so that you can plan your next cycle?
(M): Good lord no. I would rather jam an M-80 up my backside and squat over a roaring fire than sit around and wait the 8 weeks it takes this place to “review” a piece of paper that says I’m not pregnant before I can have a WTF appointment (the appointment when you meet face to face with your Reproductive Endocrinologist post IVF failure and speculate as to what went wrong and make a new plan for the next cycle-during which all you really want to do is scream at the top of your lungs What The Fuck!!!!).
(N): Oh.
(M): Did you know I was coming in today?
(N): Yes, of course, I have your file right here.
(M): Excellent. Do you carry it around to merely look professional or do you occasionally open it to see what’s in it?
(N): I’m sorry I don’t follow.
(M): That is apparent. None of you do, and its a horrible habit for you to have. Do you understand how frustrating it is when I call in, or come in, and no one bothers to read my file or god forbid I don’t know-possibly remember pertinent information about me.
(N): There are many patients
(M): I don’t care about them. Telling me I am one of a bunch of women you are doing this crap to doesn’t instill me with confidence that I have selected a place that gives a rats ass. Trust me, I can sit in the lobby for the 5 extra minutes it takes you to skim my file before you meet with me or return my call-it would be worth the wait. Go ahead why don’t you write that on the OUTSIDE of my file-“please skim patients file before seeing or talking with her”-lord knows if you were to put it on the inside it would never happen. Case in point-can you tell me without looking in my file why my period showed up on friday even though my beta blood test wasn’t scheduled until tomorrow?
(N): That sometimes happens.
(M): Wrong answer. I am on a natural cycle. Ergo no progesterone was administered so there was nothing to prevent my period from showing up on schedule-have you any idea how many times all of you forgot I was on a natural cycle over the past 3 weeks?
(N): No
(M): 10. That’s unacceptable. Had you bothered to look in my file, you would have seen that we have planned out my cycles for the next 6 months to avoid having to sit around and wait for my case to be reviewed. However, there are a few concerns I have since I realized how little communication happens here so now I would like you to add this information to my file…
This is where it got ugly.
I wrote out bullet points-then made her recite them back to me. I then had her initial each bullet point after she said them out loud to confirm she understood. I even drew a picture of my cervix with scar tissue in it, and an angry face, and a frowning sad face, and then “25 months of trying to make a healthy baby and still not even pregnant” and also had her initial those as well. Once done-I made her hole punch them in front of me and put them into my file. I also informed her that I wanted my doctor to review my entire folder, especially the information that I had bulleted today, and that I expect a call next week.
The nurse agreed, and then said-
“I’ll call you later today with the results from your beta. “
I shot her a look of death.
By this point I had already made it to the hall in front of the other 3 nurses and the secretary-when I said loudly and on purpose for all to hear-
“Don’t bother. I don’t need you to call me, or any of you in here for that matter, to tell me what I already know. I have told you every time that I test at home, and my tests are clearly functioning perfectly otherwise last month I wouldn’t have come in and told you I was pregnant. This canceling my clients and missing work for pregnancy testing when I know it is negative is a complete waste of my time and of course costing me money out my pocket. Do you want to know what’s worse than being NOT pregnant? Having to lose a couple hundred dollars in income to have some jerk who doesn’t even know me, tell me I’m not pregnant on the phone when I already know I’m not pregnant.
The only reason I come in here is because you told me it was mandatory. As a matter of fact no more-don’t call me any more with any bad news. I have had more bad news relayed to me over than phone than any human should ever have to endure. I am tired of picking up my phone and having it be nothing but doom and gloom or you owe us money. If you have something crappy to tell me, write on a piece of paper and mail it to me. And make sure to write that on the outside of my folder as well!”
And then I tried to slam the door but it had an auto closing mechanism so it was very anti-climatic. And then I kicked the mat in the lobby and sent it flying across the room where it made an insane noise as it smashed into the elevator.
And then I left.
And then I called my primary care physcian to schedule an appointment to discuss the possibility of getting a prescription for some anti-depressant medication.
On the upside, the cops didn’t come and arrest me, nor did the nurse call me to tell me I wasn’t pregnant.
Progress.